So, You're Having A Breakdown.
by Jania Jitsu
Summary: “‘Well, he is still your life-mate, is he not? How will you hold up without him?’ Let’s just pour lemon juice on my gaping wound, then, all right? A crazy thought, but maybe she was sent to push me over the edge. How do I deal with it all?” (fro
1. So, You're Having a Breakdown.

***Title**: So, You're Having A Breakdown.  
***Author**: Jania Jitsu  
***Disclaimer**: HP doesn't belong to me. I would make an attempt to get Remus and Sirius, but they're not real and they're both gay anyway, so what's the use?  
***Feedback**: jania_jitsu@yahoo.com   
***Category**: Angst or something.  
***Summary**: "'Well, he is still your life-mate, is he not? How will you hold up without him?' Let's just pour lemon juice on my gaping wound, then, all right? A crazy thought, but maybe she was sent to push me over the edge. How do I deal with it all?"  
***Spoilers**: It's possible. You are warned.  
***Rating**: PG-13 probably.  
***Warnings/Notes**: On the SB/RL list Indus was talking about little Spiderman/Remus parallels and the line "This is my gift; my curse." (See relevant messages below.) That directly resulted my assault by a particularly persistent little plot bunny, which you can also see below. It's completely different from what I thought it would be.  
  
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin/message/4482  
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin/message/4486  
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin/message/4503  
  
  
  
  
The doctor who deals with me is very professional, and almost kind. She looks at me with a somewhat veiled sympathy from behind her black-rimmed glasses and the clipboard she clutches in one slender hand. I suppose she feels bad about feeling bad for me. Perhaps that it's wrong, because of who and what I am.  
  
I understand. It's very difficult to shake off the beliefs one is given as a child, even if one should want to, and I have always known that people will be prejudiced against people who are different. It's a fact of life, and I am much too different in all the wrong ways.   
  
"Remus," the doctor they sent says, "how do you feel?"   
  
How do I _feel_? 'What the hell kind of question is that?!' I want to shout. 'How _dare_ you ask me how I feel! The answer is obvious, woman. I feel like shit! SHIT, do you hear me?! SHIT!'   
  
"A little sore," I reply quietly.   
  
"You nearly died," she reminds me, as if I could have somehow forgotten.   
  
I do not reply. What would I say? 'Gee, too bad about that "nearly"!' Or how about, 'I already have.' Not that I'm actually dead, not physically, anyway. I'm just betrayed and abandoned to the point of almost nonexistence, is all.   
  
I begged Dumbledore to let me keep the baby. Of course he said no, as gently as possible. We both knew that, as well-meaning as I am, I can't seriously think about keeping a child, not with my condition. (That would refer to the lycanthropy or the craziness that I seem to have been steadily gaining for some time now.) I couldn't do that to any child, but especially not to James and Lily's little orphan.   
  
And so I am alone. The full moon was on the fifth and the wolf tore me up nicely. Maybe it was punishment, perhaps it was loneliness, or the lack of hope, or sex, or money, or love . . . but whatever the cause it still hurt like hell when I woke up three days later in St. Mungo's. They had me in a nice little dangerous creature division and, after checking vital signs, they called a psychiatrist down to Deal With Me.   
  
I was expecting a full entourage of sentries and Aurors with wands drawn to guard the "dangerous creature" and prevent him from hurting anyone, especially a good, useful shrink. Needless to say, I was a bit surprised when only one person entered my room. It wasn't even someone who could defend herself- it was a short, skinny little woman in plain black work-robes with her brown hair pulled back into a little ponytail. She fixed her critical gaze on me first thing, and began to judge. I suppose she would call it "making assessments".   
  
Well, my assessment is that they sent her in here, not for my well-being, but for the following reasons: First, to make sure I'm not a danger to anyone. (Except for maybe myself. I don't think anyone here would cry if I killed myself, just as long as they didn't have to clean up after me.) Second, to determine how much I know about the deaths of the Potters and Peter, and how much I knew before it actually happened. (I knew nothing before, and I barely know anything now. Nothing I haven't told the authorities, in any case.) Third, to get a little research on the werewolf psyche. (God help us both, there.) Fourth, to get a little insight on the infamous Sirius Black and his lover. (MY. GOD. I have no words to express my feelings on that.)   
  
I don't plan on complying that easily.   
  
There is silence for a moment, then the psychiatrist talks again. "Tell me, Remus," (How did we get on a first-name basis when I don't even know her name?) "about Sirius. Can you talk about him yet?"   
  
"What would I possibly have to say?"   
  
She clears her throat and looks down at her clipboard. "Well, he is still your life-mate, is he not? How will you hold up without him?"   
  
Let's just pour lemon juice on my gaping wound, then, all right? A crazy thought, but maybe she was sent to push me over the edge.   
  
How do I deal with it all?   
  
"Like an alcoholic." I wait for her confusion to fester for a moment, then I add, "One day at a time."   
  
"That's very optimistic," she says, scratching something down on her scroll of yellow legal parchment with a sharp, expensive quill.   
  
"Well, I'm kind of required to be. If I'm pessimistic that's seen as being pissy, and if a werewolf gets pissy people begin to overreact and then, before you know it, things are blown way out of proportion just because I thought that the glass was half empty."   
  
"Aren't you being a little overdramatic?"   
  
Aren't you being a little nosy?   
  
"Not at all. I'd like to see _you_ tell people you're a werewolf and then growl at them. They'll have the silver out faster than you can say 'kidding'."   
  
"You have a lot of friends for a man with such a negative view on people."   
  
"'Had'."   
  
"Excuse me?"   
  
"You used the present form of the verb 'to have'. That implies that I currently have many friends, which I do not. I _used_ to have friends. I wish that I _still_ had friends, but nearly all my friends are dead or as close to it as humanly possible."   
  
"And yet you manage to survive."   
  
LEMON ON THE WOUND, WOMAN! Jesus, she's great at this! I laugh bitterly. "Survival." I spit the word out as nastily as any Slytherin ever spat the curse 'Mudblood'.   
  
"Yes, it can be a strange gift."   
  
"It is _my_ gift."   
  
I am the only one left, out of five. Isn't that sad? I think it's pathetic, but it wasn't my choice. I don't have a choice. I will go on, and continue to live, despite all that has been, is currently being, and will in the future be thrown at me.   
  
But how can I possibly live? Where are my companions; my friends? Where is my love in this post-war Hell? Where are all those dreams that we so carefully made, wrapped up in sheets and each other?   
  
Where is my love? Where is my Sirius?   
  
I consider that for a moment, then add, "And it is my curse."   
  
  
`*`-`*`-`*`   
  
  
_"Remus, please! Just hang on a minute and talk to me."   
  
"I'm sorry, Sirius," I shook my head, carefully not looking at his tear-streaked face (he looks so _young_!), "but I have to go."   
  
I began to walk off, and his hand reached out to grab my arm. He stopped from touching me just in time, but I suddenly became frozen in my tracks.   
  
"Please," he whispered in a barely audible voice. "Talk with me. It's just for a moment."   
  
Maybe it was the fact that he said 'please'. Maybe it was the tears. Maybe it was the sound of his voice. That tone of a broken man who is trying to keep from losing everything and has no other options. Whatever it was made me inform him- still without looking at his face- that I would see him in the library during lunch.   
  
In Arithmancy fifteen minutes later, Lily and James cornered me in a very friendly manner to ask what was up with Sirius. I very calmly replied- as I always did when they said anything about him- that Sirius was none of my business.   
  
"Remus-" James began, but Lily silenced him with one raised finger.   
  
"Let me talk to him a moment," she said. James didn't look too pleased, but he nodded and walked off, muttering something and rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand like he always did when he was worried or upset.   
  
"Listen, Lily-" but, just like James, I was interrupted.   
  
"Remus," she said in a low, calm voice, "I don't know what it is that you four aren't telling me. I don't know what Sirius did that's got you like this. I know it must have been bad though, because I've never in my life seen you get this close to being deliberately cruel to a person."   
  
I looked up at her from my seat, shock on my face and anything I had planned on saying wiped clean from my brain.   
  
"You're the sweetest guy I know," she said, cupping my cheek with her hand, "and I know that he must have done something terrible for you to react this way. I know that, until April of last year, you and Sirius Black were inseparable. I know that you still love him and that if you ignore him like this forever it's going to kill the both of you."   
  
"E-excuse me?"   
  
"You're soul-mates or something," she said with a laugh. "Dunno what it is about you two, but you would die without each other." Her face and tone got serious again. "I think you've both suffered long enough, Remus. Just forgive him, already."   
  
She walked away, back to James, who was waiting for her. I sat numbly in my chair.   
  
She thought I was . . . in _love_ . . . with _SIRIUS_.   
  
A scarier thought: _wasn't_ I?   
  
Even _MORE_ scary: he certainly didn't feel the same way.   
  
I thought about what she said all through Arithmancy, and Potions. This really wasn't the best academic choice, as I've always been terrible at Potions. Luckily, no one got hurt and Professor Browning was very understanding, but the Slytherins had a field day with their jokes. James, Peter, and especially Sirius had to be threatened before they sat down, and even Lily's temper flared when Snape said something particularly nasty.   
  
Come lunchtime, I was ready to curl up under my bed-sheets and just _die_. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. But I had promised Sirius that I would meet him in the library.   
  
I have _never_ broken even the smallest of promises when it was made to my Sirius._   
  
  
`*`-`*`-`*`   
  
  
She interrupts my reverie to ask, "Are you always this philosophical?" It takes me a moment to realize that she's referring to my gift/curse comment. For a moment it almost seemed like she could read my mind.   
  
"Are you always this intrusive?" I snap.   
  
The words are out almost before I think them. The irritation is as obvious as a wolf bite. She recoils a little, but what I said earlier must go through her head at that moment because she unsuccessfully tries to play it off.   
  
"I'm just trying to help you," she says.   
  
"I don't need your kind of help," I reply.   
  
She looks at me curiously, like she has never heard anything so audacious in her life. The homeless gay werewolf acting superior to the normal human psychiatrist? I can only imagine how odd it must be for her.   
  
"What do you mean, 'my kind of help'?" she asks, so I explain my earlier assessments to her. I'm actually glad it's said. I want to know for which of the reasons she is here.   
  
"That's interesting," she says, as if she's actually fascinated by what I've said. "Do you really think that?"   
  
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't."   
  
"You say a lot of things you don't mean," she points out. "To keep the peace, among other reasons."   
  
  
`*`-`*`-`*`   
  
  
_'_I never promised to forgive him_,' I reminded myself as I walked into the library. '_I promised nothing_.'   
  
Sirius was already there, trying to sit still and failing miserably. He jiggled his left leg up and down and tapped the tips of the fingers of his right on the table like he always did when he was impatient and sitting. He was bent over- black hair falling down on his smooth cheeks- trying to read some book that he had probably only picked up so he could stay in the library.   
  
I walked right up to him, and he must have actually been reading the book because I had to cough a little to get noticed. A look of unadulterated joy crossed his face. I felt a little hurt, as this obviously meant that he didn't think I was going to come. "Hello," he said, his voice full of wonder. He must have been very surprised. I tried not to feel too hurt, but I am.   
  
'_What must he think of me? Then again, look at how I've been treating him_.'   
  
"Hello," I replied. My voice held no emotion. I was much too tired for that.   
  
"We should probably go somewhere more secluded to talk," he said, having obviously thought this through. "They have a Mug-Lit section over there that looks like it hasn't been visited since McGonagall was a first year."   
  
I shrugged and he got up to lead me to the Muggle Literature section of the library. I went there frequently, actually, but I think I'm the only one who did. We just stood there for a moment, him looking at me hopefully and me looking to the spot just left of him.   
  
'_Lily said to forgive him. I _want to_ so badly, because I think I may just be in love with him. Problem is, I don't know if I _can.'_   
  
  
`*`-`*`-`*`   
  
  
"In answer to your question, though, I'm not here for any of those reasons. I'm here for you and your mental health."   
  
I give her a very skeptical look that obviously says "BULLSHIT".   
  
"Really," she assures me.   
  
We stare each other down for a moment. It's like a cheesy battle of the wills. Who will give up first? Who is weaker? After about a minute I look away, at the floor to the right of my foot.   
  
"When I was in my sixth year at Hogwarts," I say in a completely stoic voice, "Sirius hurt me. I can't tell you how because Headmaster Dumbledore swore us all to secrecy, but suffice it to say that I wanted to die. I spent the entire summer in a depression, on into the next year; and Sirius was even worse off than I. He knew he had done something horrible- even though it was sort of an accident- and he knew that he had betrayed his best friend.   
  
"I was planning on just ignoring and avoiding him forever, and he seemed to respect my wishes, though it was obvious he didn't like me angry with him. I guess one day he just had enough. He decided he had to get me to accept his apology . . ."   
  
  
`*`-`*`-`*`   
  
  
_"So," I asked, "what now?"   
  
"I believe," Sirius said slowly, "that at some point I had something I was going to say. I've forgotten it now, though, so I guess I'll have to wing it."   
  
"Oh."   
  
"I'm terribly, incredibly, unbelievably sorry for what I did to you all last year. I know you hate me now-"  
  
"I don't hate you!" I looked him in the eyes and repeated the words with force. "_I don't hate you_. I was just scared and I felt betrayed . . ." his face was starting to get a fearful look so, just for good measure, I added, "but I never hated you."   
  
"You will now," he said softly.   
  
I was about to ask him- with absolute terror- what he had done that would make me hate him when he kissed me. Right there in the Mug-Lit section of the library. It wasn't a spontaneous kiss- it didn't have the clumsiness or the hesitation. It was a kiss that definitely came from the same person who had begged me to meet him in the library: it was desperate and miserable and heartbreaking, softened and bittersweet, but very well thought out beforehand.   
  
It was at about this time that what I was doing actually hit me: I was kissing Sirius Black. The one I now knew I loved more than anything or anyone in my life.   
  
I pulled back.   
  
"Sirius," I said breathlessly, hardly realizing what direction my thoughts had taken me in before I said, "I-I can't do this."   
  
"What?"   
  
"I can be your friend again. I forgave you a long time ago. But I cannot do this. I simply cannot be anything more than a friend."   
  
I turned around and ran out of the library, leaving Sirius stunned into immobility. I had to leave then because I was crying like I had never cried before. Everything I said was the truth. I hoped that Sirius didn't notice that I never said I didn't love him.   
  
After leaving the library, I could only think of one place to go for solitude, but since I made a point of never going to the "Shrieking Shack" (as it was now being called) unless I had to, I would have to settle for pulling the curtains around my bed.   
  
Go figure that every Gryffindor at Hogwarts was in the common room to bear witness to my sobbing, red-eyed, sniffle-y, teary entrance. Blushing a furious shade of red, I ran up to my room, pointedly ignoring the whispers behind me and not looking at James, Peter, and Lily. They didn't take the hint, though, and followed me, ignoring all the rules about girls not being allowed in the boys' dorms.   
  
"Remus?" Peter asked hesitantly.   
  
I did not answer, save to sniffle some more.   
  
"Remus," Lily got right to the point, "did you talk to Sirius?"   
  
"Oh, _GOD_," I suddenly sobbed, "_Sirius_! You were right, Lily! About the both of us!"   
  
Lily shushed James and Peter, who were obviously making whispered inquiries, and turned her full attention to me. "So, what's the problem, then?"   
  
"I . . . I can't . . . I can't explain . . ."   
  
"Why not?" Lily was so patient. She would have made a fabulous psychiatrist.   
  
"Because you'll _hate _me!"   
  
"I could never hate you, Remus," she said proudly and sincerely, pulling back the curtains and sitting next to where I was laying on the bed. I hid my face in my pillow.   
  
"You would!" My voice was forceful, if a bit muffled.   
  
I looked up at her face. She looked kind and serene, like a queen or an angel. She was not smiling or frowning. She was just sitting there, waiting for me to say something. I could see why James liked her.   
  
"I am a werewolf," I whispered.   
  
Her face did not change. I saw no judgments, condemning or otherwise, pass through her eyes.   
  
"Have you bitten anyone?"   
  
"Never!" I asserted indignantly.   
  
"I thought not. You would be extra-careful not to. Do you have a mate?"   
  
"No." I said this quietly.   
  
"Whoa, wait a minute-" Lily and I looked at James as if we had just realized that he and Peter were there. "Sorry to intrude, here, but what are you talking about, 'mate'?"   
  
I propped myself up on my elbows. "Werewolves mate for life," I replied simply.   
  
Peter looked shocked. James whistled.   
  
"Why didn't you tell us about this?" Peter asked.   
  
"I'm not planning on mating with you. I figured it wasn't any of your business. Besides, any of you could have looked it up in a book."   
  
"Okay, so you have a point there. Now, here's my question: what was Lily right about?"   
  
"James-" Lily began, warning in her voice, but I interrupted her.   
  
"She guessed who I'm in love with."   
  
"But . . . I thought it had something to do with Sirius?"   
  
"James," Lily snapped, "don't be stupid."   
  
James looked at her with confusion for a moment, then a look of enlightenment passed over his eyes.   
  
"Oh . . . _OH_! Oh, my _God_! You-" he pointed to me- "and _him_-" he pointed out the door now- "and it's mutual?"   
  
"Sort of."   
  
"Wait a minute," Peter furrowed his brow, obviously stuck back on the new development, "how can it be _sort of _mutual?"   
  
"Well, I sort of turned him down."   
  
"_**WHAT**_?!" they all shouted at once and I was so startled that I jumped. "_Why_?!"   
  
"Well," I tried to remain calm even though I felt like bawling like a twit baby again, "I simply can't do that to either one of us. The wolf wants him for its own, but I'm not going to tie him down like that."   
  
They were all about to protest, I think, but at that moment we heard Sirius coming down the hall.   
  
"I'm asleep," I informed them as I shut the curtains.   
  
Over the next few days, Lily, James, and even Peter tried to get me to change my mind. Everyone but Sirius seemed to be trying to hook us up. With Sirius everything was back to normal, if a little awkward at first. Before I knew it we were the best of friends again and I started to doubt that he had ever kissed me. Like I had thought, his love seemed to be a passing thing.   
  
Things stayed like that for quite some time._   
  
  
`*`-`*`-`*`   
  
  
I stop abruptly upon seeing the time.   
  
"You've been here for two hours," I comment.   
  
She looks at her watch and frowns. "Why, so I have. It looks like our time is up for today, then. The doctors are going to come check you out in a minute. They want to keep you in here for at least three or four more days, so I'll be seeing you around." She smiles tentatively. "Maybe you can tell me more of your story tomorrow?"   
  
"Perhaps I can."   
  
She nods and gathers her parchment and briefcase. As she leaves, I contemplate asking her for her name. I don't, but maybe I will tomorrow.   
  
I settle back into the hospital bed and try not to bring up any more old memories, but as I drift off to sleep I can hear the voices of four fifteen-year-old boys in my head:   
  
_"I, James Nolan Potter, now called 'Prongs'," of course Sirius had helped Peter come up with that name! "do give thee, Remus Jobey Lupin, the name of 'Moony'. You are a Marauder, Moony, and as such you are bound to your fellow Marauders by honor. By life and death you will protect them and if it is possible for you to help them you will. Do you accept?"   
  
"I do," I said solemnly.   
  
I remember how James grinned and motioned to Sirius.   
  
Then I turned to Sirius and repeated James's words: "I, Remus Jobey Lupin, now called 'Moony', do give thee, Sirius-" I couldn't help snickering here, and Sirius looked at me with mock-offense- "Adonis Black, the name of . . ." I thought for a moment, then smiled. "'Padfoot'. You are a Marauder, Padfoot, and as such you are bound to your fellow Marauders by honor. By life and death you will protect them and if it is possible for you to help them you will. Do you accept?"   
  
Sirius grinned. "Of course! Peter's turn now, and I've got a great name for you, Petey!"_   
  
  
`*`-`*`-`*`   
  
  
**End Note**: In my defense, just look at how the Spider-man movie ended. (Sorry, tried to keep spoilers out of that, just in case.) This started out as just a one-shot, but I can't leave them there! I'm writing a sequel soon: Sirius woos Remus. (Yay!)   
  
  
  



	2. "Letters From the Wasteland" announcemen...

Just edited to say that there's a little sequel up and another coming soon. I think it's a little series now? Anyway, you can find "Letters From the Wasteland" here:  
  
http://www.geocities.com/jania_jitsu/fics/myfics/potter/letters/intro.html  
  
I'm not posting it up here to preserve the shibby "handwriting" thing I've got set up. It's awesome and I don't know how to do ANYTHING in HTML.  
  
Anyhow, check it out!  
  
  
--Jania 


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